


Learning the Ropes

by valderys



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Community: hobbit_smut, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-22
Updated: 2010-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valderys/pseuds/valderys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is never likely to forget this summer's loving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning the Ropes

**Author's Note:**

> For 'That String Around your Finger' challenge, written in 2005. It's a fic with a twist, just a little throw-away thing :)

"I can't believe that you thought I'd not be back, Annie. It's a hard thing for a lad to believe he's as easily forgotten as mist melting from a morning."

Annie stretched a little and laughed at that, then leaned over and tickled Sam with an end of straw. The sweat drying on both their bodies clung to every curve, and Sam reached, and brushed more errant strands away. There were benefits to the hay barn, Sam reckoned, but there were definite disadvantages too. His languid brushing turned slow, his hand lingering, and clinging, his thoughts turning hot and bright once more. With studied curiosity, Sam looked down at burgeoning signs of renewed interest.

"You said I was too young," he continued, slyly, "I hope you've had cause since to change your mind."

Fingers trailed fire down his chest, and then further, and Sam arched into them. He heard more laughter, as flesh swelled and grew proud again, and cracked his eyes open to grin back.

"Oh, I haven't called you 'little Sammie' for a good long while, now have I?" Annie teasingly replied.

"And I've never yet had to call you 'little Annie'."

"And never will, I hope. So that makes us even, Sam my lad. Don't you think?"

Sam bit his lip, by way of reply, and reached for warm handfuls of his own.

"Well, all right then," Sam said, his voice hoarse, but not yet ready or willing to relinquish the game, "And if your Da catches us?"

"I don't reckon it would be any worse than if yours did."

"And you'd have the right of it there, to my way of thinking."

The straw prickled and burned, and Sam felt himself seemingly as flushed as the morn, as skilful hands palmed eager flesh.

"So here's a salute to you now, Annie. A year ago today, I last visited." He gasped, and his hold tightened. "Here's to broadened horizons."

"Here's to the endurance of youth."

"And the experience of age." And then growled with pleasure as they went rolling in the hay.

They landed atop their clothes and, playfully, Sam reached and tugged at Annie's rope belt.

"Have you more tricks that you plan on showing me?" he asked, pulling the belt loose.

"What? Tie that string around your finger? Do you think you'll need it?"

"To remember this? To remember you? Nay, never." But then his eyes grew shadowed, and his brow lowered. "But 'tis not that simple, as well you know. I'll not be back for many a long season."

"But 'tis summer now, and will be a while yet, Sam, love. Don't think on it."

"But I can't help it. Soon I'll be working with my Da again, and you for yours."

Sam felt the belt snaking out of his hands, as he was rolled once more. He looked up into eyes crinkled from the sun, and flecked with gold. Annie smiled, very slowly, and Sam licked his lips, a darting tremor.

"Then we must make the most of it," said Anson finally, as he lowered his mouth, "Don't you think? For there are many things I have yet to teach you about ropework, Sam my lad, before I may let you leave Tighfield a journeyman."

And Sam groaned, as his neck was suckled hard, and decided again that 'prenticing was a fine old tradition that he'd not have forgotten. Not in a thousand years.


End file.
